Dr. Jeckyl and Mr Hyde - r. l. Stevenson

8/11/2019 Dr. Jeckyl and Mr Hyde - r. l. Stevenson

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Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

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THE STRANGE CASE OF DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE

by Robert Louis Stevenson

Story of the Door

Mr. Utterson the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance that was never lighted by a

smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in discourse; backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty,

dreary and yet somehow lovable. At friendly meetings, and when the wine was to his taste,

something eminently human beaconed from his eye; something indeed which never found

its way into his talk, but which spoke not only in these silent symbols of the afterdinner

face, but more often and loudly in the acts of his life. He was austere with himself; drank gin

when he was alone, to mortify a taste for vintages; and though he enjoyed the theater, had

not crossed the doors of one for twenty years. But he had an approved tolerance for others;

sometimes wondering, almost with envy, at the high pressure of spirits involved in theirmisdeeds; and in any extremity inclined to help rather than to reprove. I incline to Cain's

heresy, he used to say quaintly: I let my brother go to the devil in his own way. In this

character, it was frequently his fortune to be the last reputable acquaintance and the last

good influence in the lives of downgoing men. And to such as these, so long as they came

about his chambers, he never marked a shade of change in his demeanour.

No doubt the feat was easy to Mr. Utterson; for he was undemonstrative at the best, and

even his friendship seemed to be founded in a similar catholicity of goodnature. It is the

mark of a modest man to accept his friendly circle readymade from the hands of

opportunity; and that was the lawyer's way. His friends were those of his own blood or thosewhom he had known the longest; his affections, like ivy, were the growth of time, they

implied no aptness in the object. Hence, no doubt the bond that united him to Mr. Richard

Enfield, his distant kinsman, the wellknown man about town. It was a nut to crack for

many, what these two could see in each other, or what subject they could find in common. It

was reported by those who encountered them in their Sunday walks, that they said nothing,

looked singularly dull and would hail with obvious relief the appearance of a friend. For all

that, the two men put the greatest store by these excursions, counted them the chief jewel of

each week, and not only set aside occasions of pleasure, but even resisted the calls of

business, that they might enjoy them uninterrupted.

It chanced on one of these rambles that their way led them down a bystreet in a busy

quarter of London. The street was small and what is called quiet, but it drove a thriving trade

on the weekdays. The inhabitants were all doing well, it seemed and all emulously hoping to

do better still, and laying out the surplus of their grains in coquetry; so that the shop fronts

stood along that thoroughfare with an air of invitation, like rows of smiling saleswomen.

Even on Sunday, when it veiled its more florid charms and lay comparatively empty of

passage, the street shone out in contrast to its dingy neighbourhood, like a fire in a forest;


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and with its freshly painted shutters, wellpolished brasses, and general cleanliness and

gaiety of note, instantly caught and pleased the eye of the passenger.

Two doors from one corner, on the left hand going east the line was broken by the entry

of a court; and just at that point a certain sinister block of building thrust forward its gable

on the street. It was two storeys high; showed no window, nothing but a door on the lowerstorey and a blind forehead of discoloured wall on the upper; and bore in every feature, the

marks of prolonged and sordid negligence. The door, which was equipped with neither bell

nor knocker, was blistered and distained. Tramps slouched into the recess and struck

matches on the panels; children kept shop upon the steps; the schoolboy had tried his knife

on the mouldings; and for close on a generation, no one had appeared to drive away these

random visitors or to repair their ravages.

Mr. Enfield and the lawyer were on the other side of the bystreet; but when they came

abreast of the entry, the former lifted up his cane and pointed.

Did you ever remark that door? he asked; and when his companion had replied in the

affirmative. It is connected in my mind, added he, with a very odd story.

Indeed? said Mr. Utterson, with a slight change of voice, and what was that?

Well, it was this way, returned Mr. Enfield: I was coming home from some place at

the end of the world, about three o'clock of a black winter morning, and my way lay through

a part of town where there was literally nothing to be seen but lamps. Street after street and

all the folks asleep street after street, all lighted up as if for a procession and all as emptyas a church till at last I got into that state of mind when a man listens and listens and

begins to long for the sight of a policeman. All at once, I saw two figures: one a little man

who was stumping along eastward at a good walk, and the other a girl of maybe eight or ten

who was running as hard as she was able down a cross street. Well, sir, the two ran into one

another naturally enough at the corner; and then came the horrible part of the thing; for the

man trampled calmly over the child's body and left her screaming on the ground. It sounds

nothing to hear, but it was hellish to see. It wasn't like a man; it was like some damned

Juggernaut. I gave a few halloa, took to my heels, collared my gentleman, and brought him

back to where there was already quite a group about the screaming child. He was perfectly

cool and made no resistance, but gave me one look, so ugly that it brought out the sweat onme like running. The people who had turned out were the girl's own family; and pretty soon,

the doctor, for whom she had been sent put in his appearance. Well, the child was not much

the worse, more frightened, according to the Sawbones; and there you might have supposed

would be an end to it. But there was one curious circumstance. I had taken a loathing to my

gentleman at first sight. So had the child's family, which was only natural. But the doctor's

case was what struck me. He was the usual cut and dry apothecary, of no particular age and

colour, with a strong Edinburgh accent and about as emotional as a bagpipe. Well, sir, he

was like the rest of us; every time he looked at my prisoner, I saw that Sawbones turn sick


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and white with desire to kill him. I knew what was in his mind, just as he knew what was in

mine; and killing being out of the question, we did the next best. We told the man we could

and would make such a scandal out of this as should make his name stink from one end of

London to the other. If he had any friends or any credit, we undertook that he should lose

them. And all the time, as we were pitching it in red hot, we were keeping the women off

him as best we could for they were as wild as harpies. I never saw a circle of such hatefulfaces; and there was the man in the middle, with a kind of black sneering coolness

frightened to, I could see that but carrying it off, sir, really like Satan. Ìf you choose to

make capital out of this accident,' said he, Ì am naturally helpless. No gentleman but wishes

to avoid a scene,' says he. `Name your figure.' Well, we screwed him up to a hundred

pounds for the child's family; he would have clearly liked to stick out; but there was

something about the lot of us that meant mischief, and at last he struck. The next thing was

to get the money; and where do you think he carried us but to that place with the door?

whipped out a key, went in, and presently came back with the matter of ten pounds in gold

and a cheque for the balance on Coutts's, drawn payable to bearer and signed with a name

that I can't mention, though it's one of the points of my story, but it was a name at least verywell known and often printed. The figure was stiff; but the signature was good for more than

that if it was only genuine. I took the liberty of pointing out to my gentleman that the whole

business looked apocryphal, and that a man does not, in real life, walk into a cellar door at

four in the morning and come out with another man's cheque for close upon a hundred

pounds. But he was quite easy and sneering. `Set your mind at rest,' says he, Ì will stay with

you till the banks open and cash the cheque myself.' So we all set of, the doctor, and the

child's father, and our friend and myself, and passed the rest of the night in my chambers;

and next day, when we had breakfasted, went in a body to the bank. I gave in the cheque

myself, and said I had every reason to believe it was a forgery. Not a bit of it. The chequewas genuine.

Tuttut, said Mr. Utterson.

I see you feel as I do, said Mr. Enfield. Yes, it's a bad story. For my man was a

fellow that nobody could have to do with, a really damnable man; and the person that drew

the cheque is the very pink of the proprieties, celebrated too, and (what makes it worse) one

of your fellows who do what they call good. Black mail I suppose; an honest man paying

through the nose for some of the capers of his youth. Black Mail House is what I call the

place with the door, in consequence. Though even that, you know, is far from explainingall, he added, and with the words fell into a vein of musing.

From this he was recalled by Mr. Utterson asking rather suddenly: And you don't

know if the drawer of the cheque lives there?

A likely place, isn't it? returned Mr. Enfield. But I happen to have noticed his

address; he lives in some square or other.


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And you never asked about the place with the door? said Mr. Utterson.

No, sir: I had a delicacy, was the reply. I feel very strongly about putting questions;

it partakes too much of the style of the day of judgment. You start a question, and it's like

starting a stone. You sit quietly on the top of a hill; and away the stone goes, starting others;

and presently some bland old bird (the last you would have thought of) is knocked on thehead in his own back garden and the family have to change their name. No sir, I make it a

rule of mine: the more it looks like Queer Street, the less I ask.

A very good rule, too, said the lawyer.

But I have studied the place for myself, continued Mr. Enfield. It seems scarcely a

house. There is no other door, and nobody goes in or out of that one but, once in a great

while, the gentleman of my adventure. There are three windows looking on the court on the

first floor; none below; the windows are always shut but they're clean. And then there is a

chimney which is generally smoking; so somebody must live there. And yet it's not so sure;for the buildings are so packed together about the court, that it's hard to say where one ends

and another begins.

The pair walked on again for a while in silence; and then Enfield, said Mr. Utterson,

that's a good rule of yours.

Yes, I think it is, returned Enfield.

But for all that, continued the lawyer, there's one point I want to ask: I want to askthe name of that man who walked over the child.

Well, said Mr. Enfield, I can't see what harm it would do. It was a man of the name

of Hyde.

Hm, said Mr. Utterson. What sort of a man is he to see?

He is not easy to describe. There is something wrong with his appearance; something

displeasing, something downright detestable. I never saw a man I so disliked, and yet I

scarce know why. He must be deformed somewhere; he gives a strong feeling of deformity,although I couldn't specify the point. He's an extraordinary looking man, and yet I really can

name nothing out of the way. No, sir; I can make no hand of it; I can't describe him. And it's

not want of memory; for I declare I can see him this moment.

Mr. Utterson again walked some way in silence and obviously under a weight of

consideration. You are sure he used a key? he inquired at last.

My dear sir ... began Enfield, surprised out of himself.


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Yes, I know, said Utterson; I know it must seem strange. The fact is, if I do not ask

you the name of the other party, it is because I know it already. You see, Richard, your tale

has gone home. If you have been inexact in any point you had better correct it.

I think you might have warned me, returned the other with a touch of sullenness.

But I have been pedantically exact, as you call it. The fellow had a key; and what's more,he has it still. I saw him use it not a week ago.

Mr. Utterson sighed deeply but said never a word; and the young man presently

resumed. Here is another lesson to say nothing, said he. I am ashamed of my long

tongue. Let us make a bargain never to refer to this again.

With all my heart, said the lawyer. I shake hands on that, Richard."

Search for Mr. Hyde

That evening Mr. Utterson came home to his bachelor house in sombre spirits and sat

down to dinner without relish. It was his custom of a Sunday, when this meal was over, to sit

close by the fire, a volume of some dry divinity on his reading desk, until the clock of the

neighbouring church rang out the hour of twelve, when he would go soberly and gratefully

to bed. On this night however, as soon as the cloth was taken away, he took up a candle and

went into his business room. There he opened his safe, took from the most private part of it a

document endorsed on the envelope as Dr. Jekyll's Will and sat down with a clouded brow

to study its contents. The will was holograph, for Mr. Utterson though he took charge of it

now that it was made, had refused to lend the least assistance in the making of it; it providednot only that, in case of the decease of Henry Jekyll, M.D., D.C.L., L.L.D., F.R.S., etc., all

his possessions were to pass into the hands of his friend and benefactor Edward Hyde, but

that in case of Dr. Jekyll's disappearance or unexplained absence for any period exceeding

three calendar months, the said Edward Hyde should step into the said Henry Jekyll's shoes

without further delay and free from any burthen or obligation beyond the payment of a few

small sums to the members of the doctor's household. This document had long been the

lawyer's eyesore. It offended him both as a lawyer and as a lover of the sane and customary

sides of life, to whom the fanciful was the immodest. And hitherto it was his ignorance of

Mr. Hyde that had swelled his indignation; now, by a sudden turn, it was his knowledge. It

was already bad enough when the name was but a name of which he could learn no more. Itwas worse when it began to be clothed upon with detestable attributes; and out of the

shifting, insubstantial mists that had so long baffled his eye, there leaped up the sudden,

definite presentment of a fiend.

I thought it was madness, he said, as he replaced the obnoxious paper in the safe,

and now I begin to fear it is disgrace.


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With that he blew out his candle, put on a greatcoat, and set forth in the direction of

Cavendish Square, that citadel of medicine, where his friend, the great Dr. Lanyon, had his

house and received his crowding patients. If anyone knows, it will be Lanyon, he had

thought.

The solemn butler knew and welcomed him; he was subjected to no stage of delay, butushered direct from the door to the diningroom where Dr. Lanyon sat alone over his wine.

This was a hearty, healthy, dapper, redfaced gentleman, with a shock of hair prematurely

white, and a boisterous and decided manner. At sight of Mr. Utterson, he sprang up from his

chair and welcomed him with both hands. The geniality, as was the way of the man, was

somewhat theatrical to the eye; but it reposed on genuine feeling. For these two were old

friends, old mates both at school and college, both thorough respectors of themselves and of

each other, and what does not always follow, men who thoroughly enjoyed each other's

company.

After a little rambling talk, the lawyer led up to the subject which so disagreeablypreoccupied his mind.

I suppose, Lanyon, said he, you and I must be the two oldest friends that Henry

Jekyll has?

I wish the friends were younger, chuckled Dr. Lanyon. But I suppose we are. And

what of that? I see little of him now.

Indeed? said Utterson. I thought you had a bond of common interest.

We had, was the reply. But it is more than ten years since Henry Jekyll became too

fanciful for me. He began to go wrong, wrong in mind; and though of course I continue to

take an interest in him for old sake's sake, as they say, I see and I have seen devilish little of

the man. Such unscientific balderdash, added the doctor, flushing suddenly purple, would

have estranged Damon and Pythias.

This little spirit of temper was somewhat of a relief to Mr. Utterson. They have only

differed on some point of science, he thought; and being a man of no scientific passions

(except in the matter of conveyancing), he even added: It is nothing worse than that! Hegave his friend a few seconds to recover his composure, and then approached the question

he had come to put. Did you ever come across a protege of his one Hyde?" he asked.

Hyde? repeated Lanyon. No. Never heard of him. Since my time.***

That was the amount of information that the lawyer carried back with him to the great,

dark bed on which he tossed to and fro, until the small hours of the morning began to grow

large. It was a night of little ease to his toiling mind, toiling in mere darkness and beseiged


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by questions.

Six o'clock stuck on the bells of the church that was so conveniently near to Mr.

Utterson's dwelling, and still he was digging at the problem. Hitherto it had touched him on

the intellectual side alone; but now his imagination also was engaged, or rather enslaved;

and as he lay and tossed in the gross darkness of the night and the curtained room, Mr.Enfield's tale went by before his mind in a scroll of lighted pictures. He would be aware of

the great field of lamps of a nocturnal city; then of the figure of a man walking swiftly; then

of a child running from the doctor's; and then these met, and that human Juggernaut trod the

child down and passed on regardless of her screams. Or else he would see a room in a rich

house, where his friend lay asleep, dreaming and smiling at his dreams; and then the door of

that room would be opened, the curtains of the bed plucked apart, the sleeper recalled, and

lo! there would stand by his side a figure to whom power was given, and even at that dead

hour, he must rise and do its bidding. The figure in these two phases haunted the lawyer all

night; and if at any time he dozed over, it was but to see it glide more stealthily through

sleeping houses, or move the more swiftly and still the more swiftly, even to dizziness,through wider labyrinths of lamplighted city, and at every street corner crush a child and

leave her screaming. And still the figure had no face by which he might know it; even in his

dreams, it had no face, or one that baffled him and melted before his eyes; and thus it was

that there sprang up and grew apace in the lawyer's mind a singularly strong, almost an

inordinate, curiosity to behold the features of the real Mr. Hyde. If he could but once set

eyes on him, he thought the mystery would lighten and perhaps roll altogether away, as was

the habit of mysterious things when well examined. He might see a reason for his friend's

strange preference or bondage (call it which you please) and even for the startling clause of

the will. At least it would be a face worth seeing: the face of a man who was without bowelsof mercy: a face which had but to show i tself to raise up, in the mind of the

unimpressionable Enfield, a spirit of enduring hatred.

From that time forward, Mr. Utterson began to haunt the door in the bystreet of shops.

In the morning before office hours, at noon when business was plenty, and time scarce, at

night under the face of the fogged city moon, by all lights and at all hours of solitude or

concourse, the lawyer was to be found on his chosen post.

If he be Mr. Hyde, he had thought, I shall be Mr. Seek.

And at last his patience was rewarded. It was a fine dry night; frost in the air; the streets

as clean as a ballroom floor; the lamps, unshaken by any wind, drawing a regular pattern of

light and shadow. By ten o'clock, when the shops were closed the bystreet was very

solitary and, in spite of the low growl of London from all round, very silent. Small sounds

carried far; domestic sounds out of the houses were clearly audible on either side of the

roadway; and the rumour of the approach of any passenger preceded him by a long time. Mr.

Utterson had been some minutes at his post, when he was aware of an odd light footstep

drawing near. In the course of his nightly patrols, he had long grown accustomed to the


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quaint effect with which the footfalls of a single person, while he is still a great way off,

suddenly spring out distinct from the vast hum and clatter of the city. Yet his attention had

never before been so sharply and decisively arrested; and it was with a strong, superstitious

prevision of success that he withdrew into the entry of the court.

The steps drew swiftly nearer, and swelled out suddenly louder as they turned the end ofthe street. The lawyer, looking forth from the entry, could soon see what manner of man he

had to deal with. He was small and very plainly dressed and the look of him, even at that

distance, went somehow strongly against the watcher's inclination. But he made straight for

the door, crossing the roadway to save time; and as he came, he drew a key from his pocket

like one approaching home.

Mr. Utterson stepped out and touched him on the shoulder as he passed. Mr. Hyde, I

think?

Mr. Hyde shrank back with a hissing intake of the breath. But his fear was onlymomentary; and though he did not look the lawyer in the face, he answered coolly enough:

That is my name. What do you want?

I see you are going in, returned the lawyer. I am an old friend of Dr. Jekyll's Mr.

Utterson of Gaunt Street you must have heard of my name; and meeting you so

conveniently, I thought you might admit me.

You will not find Dr. Jekyll; he is from home, replied Mr. Hyde, blowing in the key.

And then suddenly, but still without looking up, How did you know me? he asked.

On your side, said Mr. Utterson will you do me a favour?

With pleasure, replied the other. What shall it be?

Will you let me see your face? asked the lawyer.

Mr. Hyde appeared to hesitate, and then, as if upon some sudden reflection, fronted

about with an air of defiance; and the pair stared at each other pretty fixedly for a few

seconds. Now I shall know you again, said Mr. Utterson. It may be useful.

Yes, returned Mr. Hyde, lt is as well we have met; and apropos, you should have my

address. And he gave a number of a street in Soho.

Good God! thought Mr. Utterson, can he, too, have been thinking of the will? But

he kept his feelings to himself and only grunted in acknowledgment of the address.

And now, said the other, how did you know me?


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By description, was the reply.

Whose description?

We have common friends, said Mr. Utterson.

Common friends, echoed Mr. Hyde, a little hoarsely. Who are they?

Jekyll, for instance, said the lawyer.

He never told you, cried Mr. Hyde, with a flush of anger. I did not think you would

have lied.

Come, said Mr. Utterson, that is not fitting language.

The other snarled aloud into a savage laugh; and the next moment, with extraordinaryquickness, he had unlocked the door and disappeared into the house.

The lawyer stood awhile when Mr. Hyde had left him, the picture of disquietude. Then

he began slowly to mount the street, pausing every step or two and putting his hand to his

brow like a man in mental perplexity. The problem he was thus debating as he walked, was

one of a class that is rarely solved. Mr. Hyde was pale and dwarfish, he gave an impression

of deformity without any nameable malformation, he had a displeasing smile, he had borne

himself to the lawyer with a sort of murderous mixture of timidity and boldness, and he

spoke with a husky, whispering and somewhat broken voice; all these were points againsthim, but not all of these together could explain the hitherto unknown disgust, loathing and

fear with which Mr. Utterson regarded him. There must be something else, said the

perplexed gentleman. There is something more, if I could find a name for it. God bless me,

the man seems hardly human! Something troglodytic, shall we say? or can it be the old story

of Dr. Fell? or is it the mere radience of a foul soul that thus transpires through, and

transfigures, its clay continent? The last,I think; for, O my poor old Harry Jekyll, if ever I

read Satan's signature upon a face, it is on that of your new friend.

Round the corner from the bystreet, there was a square of ancient, handsome houses,

now for the most part decayed from their high estate and let in flats and chambers to all sortsand conditions of men; mapengravers, architects, shady lawyers and the agents of obscure

enterprises. One house, however, second from the corner, was still occupied entire; and at

the door of this, which wore a great air of wealth and comfort, though it was now plunged in

darkness except for the fanlight, Mr. Utterson stopped and knocked. A welldressed, elderly

servant opened the door.

Is Dr. Jekyll at home, Poole? asked the lawyer.


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I will see, Mr. Utterson, said Poole, admitting the visitor, as he spoke, into a large,

lowroofed, comfortable hall paved with flags, warmed (after the fashion of a country

house) by a bright, open fire, and furnished with costly cabinets of oak. Will you wait here

by the fire, sir? or shall I give you a light in the diningroom?

Here, thank you, said the lawyer, and he drew near and leaned on the tall fender. Thishall, in which he was now left alone, was a pet fancy of his friend the doctor's; and Utterson

himself was wont to speak of it as the pleasantest room in London. But tonight there was a

shudder in his blood; the face of Hyde sat heavy on his memory; he felt (what was rare with

him) a nausea and distaste of life; and in the gloom of his spirits, he seemed to read a

menace in the flickering of the firelight on the polished cabinets and the uneasy starting of

the shadow on the roof. He was ashamed of his relief, when Poole presently returned to

announce that Dr. Jekyll was gone out.

I saw Mr. Hyde go in by the old dissecting room, Poole, he said. Is that right, when

Dr. Jekyll is from home?

Quite right, Mr. Utterson, sir, replied the servant. Mr. Hyde has a key.

Your master seems to repose a great deal of trust in that young man, Poole, resumed

the other musingly.

Yes, sir, he does indeed, said Poole. We have all orders to obey him.

I do not think I ever met Mr. Hyde? asked Utterson.

O, dear no, sir. He never dines here, replied the butler. Indeed we see very little of

him on this side of the house; he mostly comes and goes by the laboratory."

Well, goodnight, Poole.

Goodnight, Mr. Utterson.

And the lawyer set out homeward with a very heavy heart. Poor Harry Jekyll, he

thought, my mind misgives me he is in deep waters! He was wild when he was young; along while ago to be sure; but in the law of God, there is no statute of limitations. Ay, it

must be that; the ghost of some old sin, the cancer of some concealed disgrace: punishment

coming, PEDE CLAUDO,years after memory has forgotten and selflove condoned the

fault. And the lawyer, scared by the thought, brooded awhile on his own past, groping in all

the corners of memory, least by chance some JackintheBox of an old iniquity should

leap to light there. His past was fairly blameless; few men could read the rolls of their life

with less apprehension; yet he was humbled to the dust by the many ill things he had done,

and raised up again into a sober and fearful gratitude by the many he had come so near to


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doing yet avoided. And then by a return on his former subject, he conceived a spark of hope.

This Master Hyde, if he were studied, thought he, must have secrets of his own; black

secrets, by the look of him; secrets compared to which poor Jekyll's worst would be like

sunshine. Things cannot continue as they are. It turns me cold to think of this creature

stealing like a thief to Harry's bedside; poor Harry, what a wakening! And the danger of it;

for if this Hyde suspects the existence of the will, he may grow impatient to inherit. Ay, Imust put my shoulders to the wheel if Jekyll will but let me, he added, if Jekyll will only

let me. For once more he saw before his mind's eye, as clear as transparency, the strange

clauses of the will.

Dr. Jekyll Was Quite at Ease

A fortnight later, by excellent good fortune, the doctor gave one of his pleasant dinners

to some five or six old cronies, all intelligent, reputable men and all judges of good wine;

and Mr. Utterson so contrived that he remained behind after the others had departed. This

was no new arrangement, but a thing that had befallen many scores of times. WhereUtterson was liked, he was liked well. Hosts loved to detain the dry lawyer, when the

lighthearted and loosetongued had already their foot on the threshold; they liked to sit a

while in his unobtrusive company, practising for solitude, sobering their minds in the man's

rich silence after the expense and strain of gaiety. To this rule, Dr. Jekyll was no exception;

and as he now sat on the opposite side of the fire a large, wellmade, smoothfaced man

of fifty, with something of a stylish cast perhaps, but every mark of capacity and kindness

you could see by his looks that he cherished for Mr. Utterson a sincere and warm affection.

I have been wanting to speak to you, Jekyll, began the latter. You know that will ofyours?

A close observer might have gathered that the topic was distasteful; but the doctor

carried it off gaily. My poor Utterson, said he, you are unfortunate in such a client. I

never saw a man so distressed as you were by my will; unless it were that hidebound

pedant, Lanyon, at what he called my scientific heresies. O, I know he's a good fellow you

needn't frown an excellent fellow, and I always mean to see more of him; but a

hidebound pedant for all that; an ignorant, blatant pedant. I was never more disappointed in

any man than Lanyon.

You know I never approved of it, pursued Utterson, ruthlessly disregarding the fresh

topic.

My will? Yes, certainly, I know that, said the doctor, a trifle sharply. You have told

me so.

Well, I tell you so again, continued the lawyer. I have been learning something of

young Hyde.


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The large handsome face of Dr. Jekyll grew pale to the very lips, and there came a

blackness about his eyes. I do not care to hear more, said he. This is a matter I thought

we had agreed to drop.

What I heard was abominable, said Utterson.

It can make no change. You do not understand my position, returned the doctor, with

a certain incoherency of manner. I am painfully situated, Utterson; my position is a very

strange a very strange one. It is one of those affairs that cannot be mended by talking.

Jekyll, said Utterson, you know me: I am a man to be trusted. Make a clean breast of

this in confidence; and I make no doubt I can get you out of it.

My good Utterson, said the doctor, this is very good of you, this is downright good

of you, and I cannot find words to thank you in. I believe you fully; I would trust you before

any man alive, ay, before myself, if I could make the choice; but indeed it isn't what youfancy; it is not as bad as that; and just to put your good heart at rest, I will tell you one thing:

the moment I choose, I can be rid of Mr. Hyde. I give you my hand upon that; and I thank

you again and again; and I will just add one little word, Utterson, that I'm sure you'll take in

good part: this is a private matter, and I beg of you to let it sleep.

Utterson reflected a little, looking in the fire.

I have no doubt you are perfectly right, he said at last, getting to his feet.

Well, but since we have touched upon this business, and for the last time I hope,

continued the doctor, there is one point I should like you to understand. I have really a very

great interest in poor Hyde. I know you have seen him; he told me so; and I fear he was

rude. But I do sincerely take a great, a very great interest in that young man; and if I am

taken away, Utterson, I wish you to promise me that you will bear with him and get his

rights for him. I think you would, if you knew all; and it would be a weight off my mind if

you would promise.

I can't pretend that I shall ever like him, said the lawyer.

I don't ask that, pleaded Jekyll, laying his hand upon the other's arm; I only ask for

justice; I only ask you to help him for my sake, when I am no longer here.

Utterson heaved an irrepressible sigh. Well, said he, I promise.

The Carew Murder Case


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Nearly a year later, in the month of October, 18 , London was startled by a crime of

singular ferocity and rendered all the more notable by the high position of the victim. The

details were few and startling. A maid servant living alone in a house not far from the river,

had gone upstairs to bed about eleven. Although a fog rolled over the city in the small hours,

the early part of the night was cloudless, and the lane, which the maid's window overlooked,

was brilliantly lit by the full moon. It seems she was romantically given, for she sat downupon her box, which stood immediately under the window, and fell into a dream of musing.

Never (she used to say, with streaming tears, when she narrated that experience), never had

she felt more at peace with all men or thought more kindly of the world. And as she so sat

she became aware of an aged beautiful gentleman with white hair, drawing near along the

lane; and advancing to meet him, another and very small gentleman, to whom at first she

paid less attention. When they had come within speech (which was just under the maid's

eyes) the older man bowed and accosted the other with a very pretty manner of politeness. It

did not seem as if the subject of his address were of great importance; indeed, from his

pointing, it some times appeared as if he were only inquiring his way; but the moon shone

on his face as he spoke, and the girl was pleased to watch it, it seemed to breathe such aninnocent and oldworld kindness of disposition, yet with something high too, as of a

wellfounded selfcontent. Presently her eye wandered to the other, and she was surprised

to recognise in him a certain Mr. Hyde, who had once visited her master and for whom she

had conceived a dislike. He had in his hand a heavy cane, with which he was trifling; but he

answered never a word, and seemed to listen with an illcontained impatience. And then all

of a sudden he broke out in a great flame of anger, stamping with his foot, brandishing the

cane, and carrying on (as the maid described it) like a madman. The old gentleman took a

step back, with the air of one very much surprised and a trifle hurt; and at that Mr. Hyde

broke out of all bounds and clubbed him to the earth. And next moment, with apelike fury,he was trampling his victim under foot and hailing down a storm of blows, under which the

bones were audibly shattered and the body jumped upon the roadway. At the horror of these

sights and sounds, the maid fainted.

It was two o'clock when she came to herself and called for the police. The murderer was

gone long ago; but there lay his victim in the middle of the lane, incredibly mangled. The

stick with which the deed had been done, although it was of some rare and very tough and

heavy wood, had broken in the middle under the stress of this insensate cruelty; and one

splintered half had rolled in the neighbouring gutter the other, without doubt, had been

carried away by the murderer. A purse and gold watch were found upon the victim: but nocards or papers, except a sealed and stamped envelope, which he had been probably carrying

to the post, and which bore the name and address of Mr. Utterson.

This was brought to the lawyer the next morning, before he was out of bed; and he had

no sooner seen it and been told the circumstances, than he shot out a solemn lip. I shall say

nothing till I have seen the body, said he; this may be very serious. Have the kindness to

wait while I dress. And with the same grave countenance he hurried through his breakfast

and drove to the police station, whither the body had been carried. As soon as he came into


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the cell, he nodded.

Yes, said he, I recognise him. I am sorry to say that this is Sir Danvers Carew.

Good God, sir, exclaimed the officer, is it possible? And the next moment his eye

lighted up with professional ambition. This will make a deal of noise, he said. Andperhaps you can help us to the man. And he briefly narrated what the maid had seen, and

showed the broken stick.

Mr. Utterson had already quailed at the name of Hyde; but when the stick was laid

before him, he could doubt no longer; broken and battered as it was, he recognized it for one

that he had himself presented many years before to Henry Jekyll.

Is this Mr. Hyde a person of small stature? he inquired.

Particularly small and particularly wickedlooking, is what the maid calls him, saidthe officer.

Mr. Utterson reflected; and then, raising his head, If you will come with me in my

cab, he said, I think I can take you to his house.

It was by this time about nine in the morning, and the first fog of the season. A great

chocolatecoloured pall lowered over heaven, but the wind was continually charging and

routing these embattled vapours; so that as the cab crawled from street to street, Mr.

Utterson beheld a marvelous number of degrees and hues of twilight; for here it would bedark like the backend of evening; and there would be a glow of a rich, lurid brown, like the

light of some strange conflagration; and here, for a moment, the fog would be quite broken

up, and a haggard shaft of daylight would glance in between the swirling wreaths. The

dismal quarter of Soho seen under these changing glimpses, with its muddy ways, and

slatternly passengers, and its lamps, which had never been extinguished or had been kindled

afresh to combat this mournful reinvasion of darkness, seemed, in the lawyer's eyes, like a

district of some city in a nightmare. The thoughts of his mind, besides, were of the gloomiest

dye; and when he glanced at the companion of his drive, he was conscious of some touch of

that terror of the law and the law's officers, which may at times assail the most honest.

As the cab drew up before the address indicated, the fog lifted a little and showed him a

dingy street, a gin palace, a low French eating house, a shop for the retail of penny numbers

and twopenny salads, many ragged children huddled in the doorways, and many women of

many different nationalities passing out, key in hand, to have a morning glass; and the next

moment the fog settled down again upon that part, as brown as umber, and cut him off from

his blackguardly surroundings. This was the home of Henry Jekyll's favourite; of a man who

was heir to a quarter of a million sterling.


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you.

You fear, I suppose, that it might lead to his detection? asked the lawyer.

No, said the other. I cannot say that I care what becomes of Hyde; I am quite done

with him. I was thinking of my own character, which this hateful business has ratherexposed.

Utterson ruminated awhile; he was surprised at his friend's selfishness, and yet relieved

by it. Well, said he, at last, let me see the letter."

The letter was written in an odd, upright hand and signed Edward Hyde: and it

signified, briefly enough, that the writer's benefactor, Dr. Jekyll, whom he had long so

unworthily repaid for a thousand generosities, need labour under no alarm for his safety, as

he had means of escape on which he placed a sure dependence. The lawyer liked this letter

well enough; it put a better colour on the intimacy than he had looked for; and he blamedhimself for some of his past suspicions.

Have you the envelope? he asked.

I burned it, replied Jekyll, before I thought what I was about. But it bore no

postmark. The note was handed in.

Shall I keep this and sleep upon it? asked Utterson.

I wish you to judge for me entirely, was the reply. I have lost confidence in myself.

Well, I shall consider, returned the lawyer. And now one word more: it was Hyde

who dictated the terms in your will about that disappearance?

The doctor seemed seized with a qualm of faintness; he shut his mouth tight and

nodded.

I knew it, said Utterson. He meant to murder you. You had a fine escape.

I have had what is far more to the purpose, returned the doctor solemnly: I have had

a lesson O God, Utterson, what a lesson I have had! And he covered his face for a

moment with his hands.

On his way out, the lawyer stopped and had a word or two with Poole. By the bye,

said he, there was a letter handed in today: what was the messenger like? But Poole was

positive nothing had come except by post; and only circulars by that, he added.


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This news sent off the visitor with his fears renewed. Plainly the letter had come by the

laboratory door; possibly, indeed, it had been written in the cabinet; and if that were so, it

must be differently judged, and handled with the more caution. The newsboys, as he went,

were crying themselves hoarse along the footways: Special edition. Shocking murder of an

M.P. That was the funeral oration of one friend and client; and he could not help a certain

apprehension lest the good name of another should be sucked down in the eddy of thescandal. It was, at least, a ticklish decision that he had to make; and selfreliant as he was by

habit, he began to cherish a longing for advice. It was not to be had directly; but perhaps, he

thought, it might be fished for.

Presently after, he sat on one side of his own hearth, with Mr. Guest, his head clerk,

upon the other, and midway between, at a nicely calculated distance from the fire, a bottle of

a particular old wine that had long dwelt unsunned in the foundations of his house. The fog

still slept on the wing above the drowned city, where the lamps glimmered like carbuncles;

and through the muffle and smother of these fallen clouds, the procession of the town's life

was still rolling in through the great arteries with a sound as of a mighty wind. But the roomwas gay with firelight. In the bottle the acids were long ago resolved; the imperial dye had

softened with time, as the colour grows richer in stained windows; and the glow of hot

autumn afternoons on hillside vineyards, was ready to be set free and to disperse the fogs of

London. Insensibly the lawyer melted. There was no man from whom he kept fewer secrets

than Mr. Guest; and he was not always sure that he kept as many as he meant. Guest had

often been on business to the doctor's; he knew Poole; he could scarce have failed to hear of

Mr. Hyde's familiarity about the house; he might draw conclusions: was it not as well, then,

that he should see a letter which put that mystery to right? and above all since Guest, being a

great student and critic of handwriting, would consider the step natural and obliging? Theclerk, besides, was a man of counsel; he could scarce read so strange a document without

dropping a remark; and by that remark Mr. Utterson might shape his future course.

This is a sad business about Sir Danvers, he said.

Yes, sir, indeed. It has elicited a great deal of public feeling, returned Guest. The

man, of course, was mad.

I should like to hear your views on that, replied Utterson. I have a document here in

his handwriting; it is between ourselves, for I scarce know what to do about it; it is an uglybusiness at the best. But there it is; quite in your way: a murderer's autograph.

Guest's eyes brightened, and he sat down at once and studied it with passion. No sir,

he said: not mad; but it is an odd hand.

And by all accounts a very odd writer, added the lawyer.

Just then the servant entered with a note.


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and for more than two months, the doctor was at peace.

On the 8th of January Utterson had dined at the doctor's with a small party; Lanyon had

been there; and the face of the host had looked from one to the other as in the old days when

the trio were inseparable friends. On the 12th, and again on the 14th, the door was shut

against the lawyer. The doctor was confined to the house, Poole said, and saw no one.On the 15th, he tried again, and was again refused; and having now been used for the last

two months to see his friend almost daily, he found this return of solitude to weigh upon his

spirits. The fifth night he had in Guest to dine with him; and the sixth he betook himself to

Dr. Lanyon's.

There at least he was not denied admittance; but when he came in, he was shocked at

the change which had taken place in the doctor's appearance. He had his deathwarrant

written legibly upon his face. The rosy man had grown pale; his flesh had fallen away; he

was visibly balder and older; and yet it was not so much these tokens of a swift physical

decay that arrested the lawyer's notice, as a look in the eye and quality of manner thatseemed to testify to some deepseated terror of the mind. It was unlikely that the doctor

should fear death; and yet that was what Utterson was tempted to suspect. Yes, he

thought; he is a doctor, he must know his own state and that his days are counted; and the

knowledge is more than he can bear." And yet when Utterson remarked on his illlooks, it

was with an air of great firmness that Lanyon declared himself a doomed man.

I have had a shock, he said, and I shall never recover. It is a question of weeks.

Well, life has been pleasant; I liked it; yes, sir, I used to like it. I sometimes think if we knew

all, we should be more glad to get away.

Jekyll is ill, too, observed Utterson. Have you seen him?

But Lanyon's face changed, and he held up a trembling hand. I wish to see or hear no

more of Dr. Jekyll, he said in a loud, unsteady voice. I am quite done with that person;

and I beg that you will spare me any allusion to one whom I regard as dead.

Tuttut, said Mr. Utterson; and then after a considerable pause, Can't I do

anything? he inquired. We are three very old friends, Lanyon; we shall not live to make

others.

Nothing can be done, returned Lanyon; ask himself.

He will not see me, said the lawyer.

I am not surprised at that, was the reply. Some day, Utterson, after I am dead, you

may perhaps come to learn the right and wrong of this. I cannot tell you. And in the

meantime, if you can sit and talk with me of other things, for God's sake, stay and do so; but


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if you cannot keep clear of this accursed topic, then in God's name, go, for I cannot bear it.

As soon as he got home, Utterson sat down and wrote to Jekyll, complaining of his

exclusion from the house, and asking the cause of this unhappy break with Lanyon; and the

next day brought him a long answer, often very pathetically worded, and sometimes darkly

mysterious in drift. The quarrel with Lanyon was incurable. I do not blame our old friend,Jekyll wrote, but I share his view that we must never meet. I mean from henceforth to lead a

life of extreme seclusion; you must not be surprised, nor must you doubt my friendship, if

my door is often shut even to you. You must suffer me to go my own dark way. I have

brought on myself a punishment and a danger that I cannot name. If I am the chief of

sinners, I am the chief of sufferers also. I could not think that this earth contained a place for

sufferings and terrors so unmanning; and you can do but one thing, Utterson, to lighten this

destiny, and that is to respect my silence." Utterson was amazed; the dark influence of Hyde

had been withdrawn, the doctor had returned to his old tasks and amities; a week ago, the

prospect had smiled with every promise of a cheerful and an honoured age; and now in a

moment, friendship, and peace of mind, and the whole tenor of his life were wrecked. Sogreat and unprepared a change pointed to madness; but in view of Lanyon's manner and

words, there must lie for it some deeper ground.

A week afterwards Dr. Lanyon took to his bed, and in something less than a fortnight he

was dead. The night after the funeral, at which he had been sadly affected, Utterson locked

the door of his business room, and sitting there by the light of a melancholy candle, drew out

and set before him an envelope addressed by the hand and sealed with the seal of his dead

friend. PRIVATE: for the hands of G. J. Utterson ALONE,and in case of his predecease to

be destroyed unread, so it was emphatically superscribed; and the lawyer dreaded to beholdthe contents. I have buried one friend today, he thought: what if this should cost me

another? And then he condemned the fear as a disloyalty, and broke the seal. Within there

was another enclosure, likewise sealed, and marked upon the cover as not to be opened till

the death or disappearance of Dr. Henry Jekyll. Utterson could not trust his eyes. Yes, it

was disappearance; here again, as in the mad will which he had long ago restored to its

author, here again were the idea of a disappearance and the name of Henry Jekyll bracketted.

But in the will, that idea had sprung from the sinister suggestion of the man Hyde; it was set

there with a purpose all too plain and horrible. Written by the hand of Lanyon, what should

it mean? A great curiosity came on the trustee, to disregard the prohibition and dive at once

to the bottom of these mysteries; but professional honour and faith to his dead friend werestringent obligations; and the packet slept in the inmost corner of his private safe.

It is one thing to mortify curiosity, another to conquer it; and it may be doubted if, from

that day forth, Utterson desired the society of his surviving friend with the same eagerness.

He thought of him kindly; but his thoughts were disquieted and fearful. He went to call

indeed; but he was perhaps relieved to be denied admittance; perhaps, in his heart, he

preferred to speak with Poole upon the doorstep and surrounded by the air and sounds of the

open city, rather than to be admitted into that house of voluntary bondage, and to sit and


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speak with its inscrutable recluse. Poole had, indeed, no very pleasant news to communicate.

The doctor, it appeared, now more than ever confined himself to the cabinet over the

laboratory, where he would sometimes even sleep; he was out of spirits, he had grown very

silent, he did not read; it seemed as if he had something on his mind. Utterson became so

used to the unvarying character of these reports, that he fell off little by little in the

frequency of his visits.

Incident at the Window

It chanced on Sunday, when Mr. Utterson was on his usual walk with Mr. Enfield, that

their way lay once again through the bystreet; and that when they came in front of the door,

both stopped to gaze on it.

Well, said Enfield, that story's at an end at least. We shall never see more of Mr.

Hyde.

I hope not, said Utterson. Did I ever tell you that I once saw him, and shared your

feeling of repulsion?

It was impossible to do the one without the other, returned Enfield. And by the way,

what an ass you must have thought me, not to know that this was a back way to Dr. Jekyll's!

It was partly your own fault that I found it out, even when I did.

So you found it out, did you? said Utterson. But if that be so, we may step into the

court and take a look at the windows. To tell you the truth, I am uneasy about poor Jekyll;and even outside, I feel as if the presence of a friend might do him good.

The court was very cool and a little damp, and full of premature twilight, although the

sky, high up overhead, was still bright with sunset. The middle one of the three windows

was halfway open; and sitting close beside it, taking the air with an infinite sadness of

mien, like some disconsolate prisoner, Utterson saw Dr. Jekyll.

What! Jekyll! he cried. I trust you are better.

I am very low, Utterson, replied the doctor drearily, very low. It will not last long,thank God.

You stay too much indoors, said the lawyer. You should be out, whipping up the

circulation like Mr. Enfield and me. (This is my cousin Mr. Enfield Dr. Jekyll.) Come

now; get your hat and take a quick turn with us.

You are very good, sighed the other. I should like to very much; but no, no, no, it is

quite impossible; I dare not. But indeed, Utterson, I am very glad to see you; this is really a


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great pleasure; I would ask you and Mr. Enfield up, but the place is really not fit.

Why, then, said the lawyer, goodnaturedly, the best thing we can do is to stay

down here and speak with you from where we are.

That is just what I was about to venture to propose, returned the doctor with a smile.But the words were hardly uttered, before the smile was struck out of his face and succeeded

by an expression of such abject terror and despair, as froze the very blood of the two

gentlemen below. They saw it but for a glimpse for the window was instantly thrust down;

but that glimpse had been sufficient, and they turned and left the court without a word. In

silence, too, they traversed the bystreet; and it was not until they had come into a

neighbouring thoroughfare, where even upon a Sunday there were still some stirrings of life,

that Mr. Utterson at last turned and looked at his companion. They were both pale; and there

was an answering horror in their eyes.

God forgive us, God forgive us, said Mr. Utterson.

But Mr. Enfield only nodded his head very seriously, and walked on once more in

silence.

The Last Night

Mr. Utterson was sitting by his fireside one evening after dinner, when he was surprised

to receive a visit from Poole.

Bless me, Poole, what brings you here? he cried; and then taking a second look at

him, What ails you? he added; is the doctor ill?"

Mr. Utterson, said the man, there is something wrong.

Take a seat, and here is a glass of wine for you, said the lawyer. Now, take your

time, and tell me plainly what you want.

You know the doctor's ways, sir, replied Poole, and how he shuts himself up. Well,

he's shut up again in the cabinet; and I don't like it, sir I wish I may die if I like it. Mr.Utterson, sir, I'm afraid.

Now, my good man, said the lawyer, be explicit. What are you afraid of?

I've been afraid for about a week, returned Poole, doggedly disregarding the question,

and I can bear it no more.


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The man's appearance amply bore out his words; his manner was altered for the worse;

and except for the moment when he had first announced his terror, he had not once looked

the lawyer in the face. Even now, he sat with the glass of wine untasted on his knee, and his

eyes directed to a corner of the floor. I can bear it no more,he repeated.

Come, said the lawyer, I see you have some good reason, Poole; I see there issomething seriously amiss. Try to tell me what it is.

I think there's been foul play, said Poole, hoarsely.

Foul play! cried the lawyer, a good deal frightened and rather inclined to be irritated

in consequence. What foul play! What does the man mean?

I daren't say, sir, was the answer; but will you come along with me and see for

yourself?"

Mr. Utterson's only answer was to rise and get his hat and greatcoat; but he observed

with wonder the greatness of the relief that appeared upon the butler's face, and perhaps with

no less, that the wine was still untasted when he set it down to follow.

It was a wild, cold, seasonable night of March, with a pale moon, lying on her back as

though the wind had tilted her, and flying wrack of the most diaphanous and lawny texture.

The wind made talking difficult, and flecked the blood into the face. It seemed to have swept

the streets unusually bare of passengers, besides; for Mr. Utterson thought he had never seen

that part of London so deserted. He could have wished it otherwise; never in his life had hebeen conscious of so sharp a wish to see and touch his fellowcreatures; for struggle as he

might, there was borne in upon his mind a crushing anticipation of calamity. The square,

when they got there, was full of wind and dust, and the thin trees in the garden were lashing

themselves along the railing. Poole, who had kept all the way a pace or two ahead, now

pulled up in the middle of the pavement, and in spite of the biting weather, took off his hat

and mopped his brow with a red pockethandkerchief. But for all the hurry of his coming,

these were not the dews of exertion that he wiped away, but the moisture of some strangling

anguish; for his face was white and his voice, when he spoke, harsh and broken.

Well, sir, he said, here we are, and God grant there be nothing wrong.

Amen, Poole, said the lawyer.

Thereupon the servant knocked in a very guarded manner; the door was opened on the

chain; and a voice asked from within, Is that you, Poole?

It's all right, said Poole. Open the door.


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The hall, when they entered it, was brightly lighted up; the fire was built high; and

about the hearth the whole of the servants, men and women, stood huddled together like a

flock of sheep. At the sight of Mr. Utterson, the housemaid broke into hysterical

whimpering; and the cook, crying out Bless God! it's Mr. Utterson, ran forward as if to

take him in her arms.

What, what? Are you all here? said the lawyer peevishly. Very irregular, very

unseemly; your master would be far from pleased.

They're all afraid, said Poole.

Blank silence followed, no one protesting; only the maid lifted her voice and now wept

loudly.

Hold your tongue! Poole said to her, with a ferocity of accent that testified to his own

jangled nerves; and indeed, when the girl had so suddenly raised the note of her lamentation,they had all started and turned towards the inner door with faces of dreadful expectation.

And now, continued the butler, addressing the knifeboy, reach me a candle, and we'll

get this through hands at once. And then he begged Mr. Utterson to follow him, and led the

way to the back garden.

Now, sir, said he, you come as gently as you can. I want you to hear, and I don't

want you to be heard. And see here, sir, if by any chance he was to ask you in, don't go.

Mr. Utterson's nerves, at this unlookedfor termination, gave a jerk that nearly threwhim from his balance; but he recollected his courage and followed the butler into the

laboratory building through the surgical theatre, with its lumber of crates and bottles, to the

foot of the stair. Here Poole motioned him to stand on one side and listen; while he himself,

setting down the candle and making a great and obvious call on his resolution, mounted the

steps and knocked with a somewhat uncertain hand on the red baize of the cabinet door.

Mr. Utterson, sir, asking to see you, he called; and even as he did so, once more

violently signed to the lawyer to give ear.

A voice answered from within: Tell him I cannot see anyone, it said complainingly.

Thank you, sir, said Poole, with a note of something like triumph in his voice; and

taking up his candle, he led Mr. Utterson back across the yard and into the great kitchen,

where the fire was out and the beetles were leaping on the floor.

Sir, he said, looking Mr. Utterson in the eyes, Was that my master's voice?

It seems much changed, replied the lawyer, very pale, but giving look for look.


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Changed? Well, yes, I think so, said the butler. Have I been twenty years in this

man's house, to be deceived about his voice? No, sir; master's made away with; he was made

away with eight days ago, when we heard him cry out upon the name of God; and who's in

there instead of him, and why it stays there, is a thing that cries to Heaven, Mr. Utterson!

This is a very strange tale, Poole; this is rather a wild tale my man, said Mr. Utterson,biting his finger. Suppose it were as you suppose, supposing Dr. Jekyll to have been well,

murdered what could induce the murderer to stay? That won't hold water; it doesn't

commend itself to reason.

Well, Mr. Utterson, you are a hard man to satisfy, but I'll do it yet, said Poole. All

this last week (you must know) him, or it, whatever it is that lives in that cabinet, has been

crying night and day for some sort of medicine and cannot get it to his mind. It was

sometimes his way the master's, that is to write his orders on a sheet of paper and throw

it on the stair. We've had nothing else this week back; nothing but papers, and a closed door,

and the very meals left there to be smuggled in when nobody was looking. Well, sir, everyday, ay, and twice and thrice in the same day, there have been orders and complaints, and I

have been sent flying to all the wholesale chemists in town. Every time I brought the stuff

back, there would be another paper telling me to return it, because it was not pure, and

another order to a different firm. This drug is wanted bitter bad, sir, whatever for.

Have you any of these papers? asked Mr. Utterson.

Poole felt in his pocket and handed out a crumpled note, which the lawyer, bending

nearer to the candle, carefully examined. Its contents ran thus: Dr. Jekyll presents hiscompliments to Messrs. Maw. He assures them that their last sample is impure and quite

useless for his present purpose. In the year 18 , Dr. J. purchased a somewhat large quantity

from Messrs. M. He now begs them to search with most sedulous care,and should any of the

same quality be left, forward it to him at once. Expense is no consideration. The importance

of this to Dr. J. can hardly be exaggerated. So far the letter had run composedly enough,

but here with a sudden splutter of the pen, the writer's emotion had broken loose. For God's

sake, he added, find me some of the old.

This is a strange note, said Mr. Utterson; and then sharply, How do you come to

have it open?

The man at Maw's was main angry, sir, and he threw it back to me like so much dirt,

returned Poole.

This is unquestionably the doctor's hand, do you know? resumed the lawyer.

I thought it looked like it, said the servant rather sulkily; and then, with another voice,

But what matters hand of write? he said. I've seen him!


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Seen him? repeated Mr. Utterson. Well?

That's it! said Poole. It was this way. I came suddenly into the theater from the

garden. It seems he had slipped out to look for this drug or whatever it is; for the cabinet

door was open, and there he was at the far end of the room digging among the crates. He

looked up when I came in, gave a kind of cry, and whipped upstairs into the cabinet. It wasbut for one minute that I saw him, but the hair stood upon my head like quills. Sir, if that

was my master, why had he a mask upon his face? If it was my master, why did he cry out

like a rat, and run from me? I have served him long enough. And then... The man paused

and passed his hand over his face.

These are all very strange circumstances, said Mr. Utterson, but I think I begin to

see daylight. Your master, Poole, is plainly seized with one of those maladies that both

torture and deform the sufferer; hence, for aught I know, the alteration of his voice; hence

the mask and the avoidance of his friends; hence his eagerness to find this drug, by means of

which the poor soul retains some hope of ultimate recovery God grant that he be notdeceived! There is my explanation; it is sad enough, Poole, ay, and appalling to consider;

but it is plain and natural, hangs well together, and delivers us from all exorbitant alarms.

Sir, said the butler, turning to a sort of mottled pallor, that thing was not my master,

and there's the truth. My master here he looked round him and began to whisper is a

tall, fine build of a man, and this was more of a dwarf. Utterson attempted to protest. O,

sir, cried Poole, do you think I do not know my master after twenty years? Do you think I

do not know where his head comes to in the cabinet door, where I saw him every morning of

my life? No, sir, that thing in the mask was never Dr. Jekyll God knows what it was, but itwas never Dr. Jekyll; and it is the belief of my heart that there was murder done.

Poole, replied the lawyer, if you say that, it will become my duty to make certain.

Much as I desire to spare your master's feelings, much as I am puzzled by this note which

seems to prove him to be still alive, I shall consider it my duty to break in that door.

Ah, Mr. Utterson, that's talking! cried the butler.

And now comes the second question, resumed Utterson: Who is going to do it?

Why, you and me, sir, was the undaunted reply.

That's very well said, returned the lawyer; and whatever comes of it, I shall make it

my business to see you are no loser.

There is an axe in the theatre, continued Poole; and you might take the kitchen

poker for yourself.


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The lawyer took that rude but weighty instrument into his hand, and balanced it. Do

you know, Poole, he said, looking up, that you and I are about to place ourselves in a

position of some peril?

You may say so, sir, indeed, returned the butler.

It is well, then that we should be frank, said the other. We both think more than we

have said; let us make a clean breast. This masked figure that you saw, did you recognise

it?

Well, sir, it went so quick, and the creature was so doubled up, that I could hardly

swear to that, was the answer. But if you mean, was it Mr. Hyde? why, yes, I think it

was! You see, it was much of the same bigness; and it had the same quick, light way with

it; and then who else could have got in by the laboratory door? You have not forgot, sir, that

at the time of the murder he had still the key with him? But that's not all. I don't know, Mr.

Utterson, if you ever met this Mr. Hyde?"

Yes, said the lawyer, I once spoke with him.

Then you must know as well as the rest of us that there was something queer about

that gentleman something that gave a man a turn I don't know rightly how to say it, sir,

beyond this: that you felt in your marrow kind of cold and thin.

I own I felt something of what you describe, said Mr. Utterson.

Quite so, sir, returned Poole. Well, when that masked thing like a monkey jumped

from among the chemicals and whipped into the cabinet, it went down my spine like ice. O,

I know it's not evidence, Mr. Utterson; I'm booklearned enough for that; but a man has his

feelings, and I give you my bibleword it was Mr. Hyde!

Ay, ay, said the lawyer. My fears incline to the same point. Evil, I fear, founded

evil was sure to come of that connection. Ay truly, I believe you; I believe poor Harry is

killed; and I believe his murderer (for what purpose, God alone can tell) is still lurking in his

victim's room. Well, let our name be vengeance. Call Bradshaw.

The footman came at the summons, very white and nervous.

Put yourself together, Bradshaw, said the lawyer. This suspense, I know, is telling

upon all of you; but it is now our intention to make an end of it. Poole, here, and I are going

to force our way into the cabinet. If all is well, my shoulders are broad enough to bear the

blame. Meanwhile, lest anything should really be amiss, or any malefactor seek to escape by

the back, you and the boy must go round the corner with a pair of good sticks and take your

post at the laboratory door. We give you ten minutes, to get to your stations.


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As Bradshaw left, the lawyer looked at his watch. And now, Poole, let us get to ours,

he said; and taking the poker under his arm, led the way into the yard. The scud had banked

over the moon, and it was now quite dark. The wind, which only broke in puffs and draughts

into that deep well of building, tossed the light of the candle to and fro about their steps,

until they came into the shelter of the theatre, where they sat down silently to wait. London

hummed solemnly all around; but nearer at hand, the stillness was only broken by thesounds of a footfall moving to and fro along the cabinet floor.

So it will walk all day, sir, whispered Poole; ay, and the better part of the night.

Only when a new sample comes from the chemist, there's a bit of a break. Ah, it's an ill

conscience that's such an enemy to rest! Ah, sir, there's blood foully shed in every step of it!

But hark again, a little closer put your heart in your ears, Mr. Utterson, and tell me, is that

the doctor's foot?

The steps fell lightly and oddly, with a certain swing, for all they went so slowly; it was

different indeed from the heavy creaking tread of Henry Jekyll. Utterson sighed. Is therenever anything else? he asked.

Poole nodded. Once, he said. Once I heard it weeping!

Weeping? how that? said the lawyer, conscious of a sudden chill of horror.

Weeping like a woman or a lost soul, said the butler. I came away with that upon

my heart, that I could have wept too.

But now the ten minutes drew to an end. Poole disinterred the axe from under a stack of

packing straw; the candle was set upon the nearest table to light them to the attack; and they

drew near with bated breath to where that patient foot was still going up and down, up and

down, in the quiet of the night. Jekyll, cried Utterson, with a loud voice, I demand to see

you. He paused a moment, but there came no reply. I give you fair warning, our

suspicions are aroused, and I must and shall see you, he resumed; if not by fair means,

then by foul if not of your consent, then by brute force!

Utterson, said the voice, for God's sake, have mercy!

Ah, that's not Jekyll's voice it's Hyde's! cried Utterson. Down with the door,

Poole!

Poole swung the axe over his shoulder; the blow shook the building, and the red baize

door leaped against the lock and hinges. A dismal screech, as of mere animal terror, rang

from the cabinet. Up went the axe again, and again the panels crashed and the frame

bounded; four times the blow fell; but the wood was tough and the fittings were of excellent

workmanship; and it was not until the fifth, that the lock burst and the wreck of the door fell


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inwards on the carpet.

The besiegers, appalled by their own riot and the stillness that had succeeded, stood

back a little and peered in. There lay the cabinet before their eyes in the quiet lamplight, a

good fire glowing and chattering on the hearth, the kettle singing its thin strain, a drawer or

two open, papers neatly set forth on the business table, and nearer the fire, the things laid outfor tea; the quietest room, you would have said, and, but for the glazed presses full of

chemicals, the most commonplace that night in London.

Right in the middle there lay the body of a man sorely contorted and still twitching.

They drew near on tiptoe, turned it on its back and beheld the face of Edward Hyde. He was

dressed in clothes far to large for him, clothes of the doctor's bigness; the cords of his face

still moved with a semblance of life, but life was quite gone: and by the crushed phial in the

hand and the strong smell of kernels that hung upon the air, Utterson knew that he was

looking on the body of a selfdestroyer.

We have come too late, he said sternly, whether to save or punish. Hyde is gone to

his account; and it only remains for us to find the body of your master.

The far greater proportion of the building was occupied by the theatre, which filled

almost the whole ground storey and was lighted from above, and by the cabinet, which

formed an upper story at one end and looked upon the court. A corridor joined the theatre to

the door on the bystreet; and with this the cabinet communicated separately by a second

flight of stairs. There were besides a few dark closets and a spacious cellar. All these they

now thorougly examined. Each closet needed but a glance, for all were empty, and all, bythe dust that fell from their doors, had stood long unopened. The cellar, indeed, was filled

with crazy lumber, mostly dating from the times of the surgeon who was Jekyll's

predecessor; but even as they opened the door they were advertised of the uselessness of

further search, by the fall of a perfect mat of cobweb which had for years sealed up the

entrance. No where was there any trace of Henry Jekyll dead or alive.

Poole stamped on the flags of the corridor. He must be buried here, he said,

hearkening to the sound.

Or he may have fled, said Utterson, and he turned to examine the door in thebystreet. It was locked; and lying near by on the flags, they found the key, already stained

with rust.

This does not look like use, observed the lawyer.

Use! echoed Poole. Do you not see, sir, it is broken? much as if a man had stamped

on it.


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Ay, continued Utterson, and the fractures, too, are rusty. The two men looked at

each other with a scare. This is beyond me, Poole, said the lawyer. Let us go back to the

cabinet.

They mounted the stair in silence, and still with an occasional awestruck glance at the

dead body, proceeded more thoroughly to examine the contents of the cabinet. At one table,there were traces of chemical work, various measured heaps of some white salt being laid on

glass saucers, as though for an experiment in which the unhappy man had been prevented.

That is the same drug that I was always bringing him, said Poole; and even as he

spoke, the kettle with a startling noise boiled over.

This brought them to the fireside, where the easychair was drawn cosily up, and the

tea things stood ready to the sitter's elbow, the very sugar in the cup. There were several

books on a shelf; one lay beside the tea things open, and Utterson was amazed to find it a

copy of a pious work, for which Jekyll had several times expressed a great esteem,annotated, in his own hand with startling blasphemies.

Next, in the course of their review of the chamber, the searchers came to the

chevalglass, into whose depths they looked with an involuntary horror. But it was so turned

as to show them nothing but the rosy glow playing on the roof, the fire sparkling in a

hundred repetitions along the glazed front of the presses, and their own pale and fearful

countenances stooping to look in.

This glass has seen some strange things, sir, whispered Poole.

And surely none stranger than itself, echoed the lawyer in the same tones. For what

did Jekyll he caught himself up at the word with a start, and then conquering the

weakness what could Jekyll want with it? he said.

You may say that! said Poole.

Next they turned to the business table. On the desk, among the neat array of papers, a

large envelope was uppermost, and bore, in the doctor's hand, the name of Mr. Utterson. The

lawyer unsealed it, and several enclosures fell to the floor. The first was a will, drawn in thesame eccentric terms as the one which he had returned six months before, to serve as a

testament in case of death and as a deed of gift in case of disappearance; but in place of the

name of Edward Hyde, the lawyer, with indescribable amazement read the name of Gabriel

John Utterson. He looked at Poole, and then back at the paper, and last of all at the dead

malefactor stretched upon the carpet.

My head goes round, he said. He has been all these days in possession; he had no

cause to like me; he must have raged to see himself displaced; and he has not destroyed this


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document.

He caught up the next paper; it was a brief note in the doctor's hand and dated at the top.

O Poole! the lawyer cried, he was alive and here this day. He cannot have been disposed

of in so short a space; he must be still alive, he must have fled! And then, why fled? and

how? and in that case, can we venture to declare this suicide? O, we must be careful. Iforesee that we may yet involve your master in some dire catastrophe.

Why don't you read it, sir? asked Poole.

Because I fear, replied the lawyer solemnly. God grant I have no cause for it! And

with that he brought the paper to his eyes and read as follows:

"My dear Utterson, When this shall fall into your hands, I shall have disappeared,

under what circumstances I have not the penetration to foresee, but my instinct and all the

circumstances of my nameless situation tell me that the end is sure and must be early. Gothen, and first read the narrative which Lanyon warned me he was to place in your hands;

and if you care to hear more, turn to the confession of

"Your unworthy and unhappy friend,

HENRY JEKYLL.

There was a third enclosure? asked Utterson.

Here, sir, said Poole, and gave into his hands a considerable packet sealed in several

places.

The lawyer put it in his pocket. I would say nothing of this paper. If your master has

fled or is dead, we may at least save his credit. It is now ten; I must go home and read these

documents in quiet; but I shall be back before midnight, when we shall send for the police.

They went out, locking the door of the theatre behind them; and Utterson, once more

leaving the servants gathered about the fire in the hall, trudged back to his office to read the

two narratives in which this mystery was now to be explained.

Dr. Lanyon's Narrative

On the ninth of January, now four days ago, I received by the evening delivery a

registered envelope, addressed in the hand of my colleague and old school companion,

Henry Jekyll. I was a good deal surprised by this; for we were by no means in the habit of

correspondence; I had seen the man, dined with him, indeed, the night before; and I could

imagine nothing in our intercourse that should justify formality of registration. The contents


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increased my wonder; for this is how the letter ran:

"10th December, 18 .

"Dear Lanyon, You are one of my oldest friends; and although we may have differed

at times on scientific questions, I cannot remember, at least on my side, any break in ouraffection. There was never a day when, if you had said to me, `Jekyll, my life, my honour,

my reason, depend upon you,' I would not have sacrificed my left hand to help you. Lanyon

my life, my honour, my reason, are all at your mercy; if you fail me tonight, I am lost. You

might suppose, after this preface, that I am going to ask you for something dishonourable to

grant. Judge for yourself.

"I want you to postpone all other engagements for tonight ay, even if you were

summoned to the bedside of an emperor; to take a cab, unless your carriage should be

actually at the door; and with this letter in your hand for consultation, to drive straight to my

house. Poole, my butler, has his orders; you will find him waiting your arrival with alocksmith. The door of my cabinet is then to be forced: and you are to go in alone; to open

the glazed press (letter E) on the left hand, breaking the lock if it be shut; and to draw out,

with all its contents as they stand, the fourth drawer from the top or (which is the same

thing) the third from the bottom. In my extreme distress of mind, I have a morbid fear of

misdirecting you; but even if I am in error, you may know the right drawer by its contents:

some powders, a phial and a paper book. This drawer I beg of you to carry back with you to

Cavendish Square exactly as it stands.

"That is the first part of the service: now for the second. You should be back, if you setout at once on the receipt of this, long before midnight; but I will leave you that amount of

margin, not only in the fear of one of those obstacles that can neither be prevented nor

foreseen, but because an hour when your servants are in bed is to be preferred for what will

then remain to do. At midnight, then, I have to ask you to be alone in your consulting room,

to admit with your own hand into the house a man who will present himself in my name, and

to place in his hands the drawer that you will have brought with you from my cabinet. Then

you will have played your part and earned my gratitude completely. Five minutes

afterwards, if you insist upon an explanation, you will have understood that these

arrangements are of capital importance; and that by the neglect of one of them, fantastic as

they must appear, you might have charged your conscience with my death or the shipwreckof my reason.

"Confident as I am that you will not trifle with this appeal, my heart sinks and my hand

trembles at the bare thought of such a possibility. Think of me at this hour, in a strange

place, labouring under a blackness of distress that no fancy can exaggerate, and yet well

aware that, if you will but punctually serve me, my troubles will roll away like a story that is

told. Serve me, my dear Lanyon and save


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"Your friend,

"H.J.

P.S. I had already sealed this up when a fresh terror struck upon my soul. It is

possible that the postoffice may fail me, and this letter not come into your ha

Documents

Dr. Jeckyl and Mr Hyde - r. l. Stevenson